by Jule McBride
Yes…the fall. That’s what she wanted, so she gasped as big hands slid upward, lifting her breasts from beneath. She was full and wanting, more than his hands could accommodate, and she’d couldn’t believe the shivery feeling when he licked his lips, then locked them—hot, wet, tight—over a nipple. Palpitations poured through her, and the flinch of his erection against her belly made her mutter something senseless.
This was bliss. Pure, unmitigated bliss. She flung back her neck, forgetting her surroundings as he kneaded her, the strong, slender fingers closing. Feathery kisses nibbled at the stiffened tips, and her fingers cupped his head, urging him closer still.
“Beautiful,” he pronounced once more, leaning to look into eyes she’d half shut. He looked his fill, even as his hands found her again, using a thumb to circle a wet, glistening nipple.
“Kiss me….”
Love burst in her heart as he did as she wanted, his lips closing tightly—so impossibly tightly—and he suckled deeply. Only when he’d slaked his thirst, and she was teetering on the edge, did his eyes find hers again.
“C’mon,” he managed to say, his breath labored.
But she needed…
He grabbed her hand. “Let’s swim.”
Following him to the water, she sat on the dock and watched as he lowered himself, not stopping until his shoulders were submerged. “It’s not deep,” she said, surprised to hear the normal sound of her voice. After how he’d just touched her, she’d have expected it to come out jittery.
“My toes feel the bottom.”
“It drops off about ten feet out.”
Lifting her hips, she slipped off her panties, then tossed them toward his shorts. His eyes were on her, just slits of midnight-blue that glinted with starlight as he trailed the trimmed tuft of blond hair. His eyes settled, and as she gripped the side of the dock, she could hear his breath catch. Gripping her thighs, he parted them as he had earlier in the day. He leaned and nuzzled her, kissing her once as his hands dipped beneath the water, curling around her calves.
He smiled up at her, then slid his fingers down to her feet and cupped the insteps, massaging. Placing her hands on his shoulders, her eyes traced the water lapping his neck, settling where wet tips of his hair cleaved to skin. She slipped into the water, shuddering against him as their water-slick bodies rubbed.
His feet had gained purchase and her legs wrapped around his waist. She was loving this, so much so that she said it out loud. “I like being…”
“Hmm?”
“Naked like this.”
He shot her a playful look, his eyes sparkling with awareness. “Uh…yeah.” As if to say, Duh.
“I mean, playing but not making love,” she clarified.
Heat was in his eyes. “This is making love, Ariel.”
She supposed it was. Generally, she thought of the act of sex, itself. His eyes were on her face, assessing, as if he were registering that she’d never been this free with anyone. Oh, she’d had boyfriends. But it had never been…like this.
“Ready?” he asked.
“For?”
He bounced her lightly, his hands cupping her bottom, his smile and teasing lift of brows preparing her for what was to come. She took a deep breath, trying not to laugh—but then she laughed, anyway—as he plunged into the water, submerging them.
As he brought them both back up with a splash, he flung back his head. The mouth that immediately found hers was cool, and right after she opened for the quick meshing of tongues, she heard him say, “Let’s go deeper.”
She was still tasting the kiss and feeling the rumble of his voice. It made his chest vibrate, and she knew he wasn’t only talking about going deeper into the water. He was talking about going deeper, into each other. “Okay,” she whispered.
He was like a drug, drawing her into some delicious underworld of sensation as he began walking farther into the spring. Looping her hands around his neck, she loosened her legs around his back, so her feet massaged his thighs. Like the water, he seemed to call her into depths she’d never dreamed of exploring….
“They say the source of the spring is under the mountain,” she found herself saying, when the water deepened and they broke apart to swim. He was a good swimmer, she realized, watching the smooth, easy glide of his body, how the powerful muscles of rounded shoulders rolled as he moved. “Swim a lot?” she asked.
“Most days in the gym. At least when I’m in the country. Rarely outside. It’s always a treat.” He was a few feet away. “How deep does it go?”
How deep will we go, Ariel? She shook her head, scissoring her legs and pushing her arms outward in a wide circle, feeling an ache in her muscles. “No one knows. People have gone diving beneath the mountain, but no one’s ever really found the mouth of the spring.”
“Must be deep then.”
She couldn’t help but grin. “Like my mind.”
“I wouldn’t argue with you there.”
“You don’t know me.”
“Yet,” he promised.
Suddenly swinging her arm in a wide arc and catching water in a cupped hand, she didn’t make an honest effort to splash him, but then, Rex wasn’t nearly so kind. He sent a wave her way, and just as she quickly swam toward him, he neatly ducked, dovetailing as easily as a dolphin.
“Where did you go?” she muttered.
He disappeared for a good long while…long enough that she started to worry. She glanced around, treading water in circles, looking toward shore, wondering if he’d swum away.
A thrill of anticipation zipped through her. He was right beneath her, tickling her feet! Or at least she hoped it was him. She tried to swat beneath her, waving a hand in the water, but once more, something slimy—most probably his wet fingers—ghosted an instep.
“Is that you?” she asked, giggling, tucking her feet toward her belly, trying to escape. Not that there was much else in the water but him. Snakes in Bliss were usually of the land variety, rattlers and copperheads. All at once, he surfaced, blowing out whatever was left of his breath, bringing enough water with him that he could have been a whale. His shoulders were shaking with laughter.
“You scared me!”
He didn’t exactly sound sincere. “Sorry.”
“What?” she asked rhetorically. “Can you hold your breath forever?”
“Almost.”
“Bet I can hold mine longer.”
“Competitive, are you?”
“Only when I know I’ll win.”
She found his hand, then realized they could swim together, with one set of hands loosely linked, and their free hands plowing through the water. Feeling like a wild, naked animal in the moonlight, she could barely believe the beauty of how it felt to swim with him. The water was as she’d always remembered it, warm on the surface, colder as they moved from the dock, then warm once more, as they dove down…down…down….
It was pitch dark now. The light of the moon was lost, and there was only him, a man whose name she hadn’t even known just hours ago. They played and frolicked, swimming over and around each other. Ducking and diving, they twined arms and legs like seaweed, grew into one strand, then released again.
And then they were suddenly kicking, their feet moving as fast as flippers, holding hands and heading for the surface…the far-off stars and moon and air. She felt her lungs would explode; then they broke the glassy surface, gasping for breath.
“It feels weird down there,” he managed to say, jerking his head to flip back his hair and sending an arc of water spray behind him.
She treaded water. “Hot.”
“You’re right. You can feel the temperature change.”
“Nice, huh?”
“Very.”
“I loved everything about Bliss,” she found herself saying. She paused, then added, “Except the people.”
He looked around, taking in the lush green shorelines. Far off, through the trees, tiny white lights winked through the trees, and far up the mountain was the
impressive edifice of Matilda Teasdale’s legacy. A rare, perfect full moon shone down at them and the stars were glittering. Dark waters eddied by their faces, lapping softly, kissing skin. “It’s one of the prettiest places I’ve ever seen,” he admitted.
“Since you’re a world traveler, that’s saying something.”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice lowering, catching as he took in her face. “Yeah, it is.”
This time, the beauty was her, not the place.
Being with him was definitely dangerous, she thought. More than one day of this kind of treatment and she was sure her heart would be lost forever. Tomorrow when they parted, she thought, she’d play it cool. She wouldn’t even suggest they exchange addresses, or try to keep in touch. After all, he was in Atlanta, and only when he wasn’t traveling abroad; she was in Pittsburgh. Fate had brought them together only for a night, to swim together in the wilds of West Virginia, under the blanketing trees and stars. She had to let this be exactly what it was meant to be—a fantasy.
Reaching, he swam closer and grasped her hand. “Take a deep breath. Let’s go down again.”
She nodded, then felt a jolt when his hand tightened over hers, fitting like a glove. Their eyes met. Simultaneously, they drew in the moist night air, filling their lungs, and then they plunged. This time, as the cold mid-waters gave way to more intense heat, she felt them stoking the darker flames inside her, instead of quenching them.
A wake fluttered past, a ripple as his body glided next to hers. Surely, he felt the heat of the spring now, how it entered the very bloodstream. Way down, deep in the waters, was magic at its best. Here, it could never matter whether Matilda had really traveled to Bliss after having heard about the spring’s special properties, or whether she’d wanted to harness its powers for teas, no more than Ariel cared if the love bug actually existed, returning periodically, compelling everyone in Bliss to stop their usual routines.
No, all that mattered was the sensation. Waters warmed her from the inside out. Even if a hundred Studs Underwoods had tortured her, instead of just one, Ariel still would have loved this spring, just as she loved the land in the most desolate winters, when the kids in town had huddled together, terrifying themselves with tall tales, while she—and only she—had had the freedom of galloping on horseback through woods rumored to hold gravesites…riding hard with her head down while cold air had knifed her lungs and hooves had kicked up snow powder.
Freedom.
That’s what Ariel had known. It was the hidden silver lining in the cloud of the way the other kids had treated her. Whatever fury she’d once felt had been soothed by these waters so many times, and as water around any grain of sand, they’d finally turned out a beautiful pearl. Tonight, the man beside her was cracking open her shell, finding the part inside that glowed.
One night, she thought once more. She’d had so many fantasies in this town. Now, she had plenty to fulfill with him—and only a few hours left in which to do it. Already, earlier today, he’d done what no man had before. Heat gushed through her at the recollection of his mouth fixed on the most intimate part of her.
And now, as they turned to swim toward the surface again, she intended to find at least one thing Rex Houston would enjoy, something extra special that she could do in return.
8
“YOUR ROOM OR MINE?” he asked. She was backlit, her face in shadow, and as he took in how the dim, dancing light played on her skin, his body felt strangely invigorated from swimming, even though it had been a long day, full of unexpected twists. Yet he felt drained, too. Had he really traveled from out of state, driven from Charleston to Bliss, then met Ariel? It seemed as if his last conversation with Jessica had occurred a thousand years ago, instead of just this morning.
As if reading his mind, Ariel stepped to the threshold between their rooms, whispering, “You looked tired.”
“Not that tired,” he said, hoping she hadn’t decided to go to bed alone, not that he really thought she would. Nor would he let her, he realized. Not without a fight. She was his tonight.
“You’re dirty, too.”
Noting the white nightie in her hand, he said, “I don’t think you’ll need that.”
“Thought you might like to see me in it.”
He shook his head and simply said, “Naked.” A streak of mud trekked across his bare chest, and as she dropped the nightie and stepped forward and traced it, the slow rake of her fingernail raised goose bumps.
“You don’t look much cleaner,” he managed to say, his chest feeling suddenly tight.
“No?”
Because she looked more beautiful than anything he’d ever seen, he said nothing. Her hair was pulled back, exposing her clear face; stray strands loosened from the band fell against her neck. Something in her expression—he wasn’t quite sure what—made her look younger than she probably was. She was strong, but carried a lot of vulnerability, and he liked that. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe because he hated simple people. And he liked challenges. Besides, the older he got, the more people seemed to shut off and tune out. Building a life—working and raising kids required too much focus to stay in touch with emotion. He’d lost some friends that way. He wanted to keep things fresh in his own life, always to feel alive.
“How old are you?” he asked.
Her lips twitched playfully as she considered. “Think I might be jailbait?”
He laughed. His hands found her shoulders, and now both thumbs slowly stroked her upper chest. After a moment he dropped his hands. “Tell me.”
“Twenty-nine. You?”
“Thirty-two.”
“Young for a doctor. Isn’t it?”
He shrugged. “Not really. But I graduated high school early. College, too.”
She looked impressed. “You must be smart.”
He laughed. “Very. But for me, it wasn’t what it’s cracked up to be.”
She leaned against the doorjamb, cocking her head as if to better look at him. “No?”
“All the stupid guys got the girls.”
“What?” she asked rhetorically, chuckling. “Did you start analyzing theorems on dates?”
“I might have tried to explain pheromones,” he admitted. “Or explained how velocity related to my model cars.”
She didn’t look convinced. “You’re, uh…”
“What?” he prompted.
She settled on saying, “Pretty hot.”
“Glad you think so.”
“If you weren’t,” she added, “I’d have settled for smart.”
“Good,” he murmured. She was barefoot, and mud from the bank had splashed her ankles and calves. The sundress, dampened by springwater, clung limply to her body. In the long silence that fell, he was surprised to find he wasn’t uncomfortable. Janet had been a chatterbox, filling every emptiness between them, as if space was hers to wrap neatly, package and dispense. She hadn’t cared what she talked about, either—usually clothes shopping, books and movies. Not so Ariel. She was entirely at ease with pauses and wordless moments.
He could smell the heady scent of her. It was a palpable thing between them, like a sinuous cat stretching, arching its back. His familiar, he thought, feeling the pull of his groin again.
She was eyeing him. “Hmm?”
He shrugged, not sure how to put what he was feeling into words. He was a reader, but if the truth be told, he was more at ease with slides and tumblers than feelings. Earlier, the spring’s current had felt strong and forbidding. Even now, he felt the urge to dive again, to swim toward all that mysterious heat and maybe discover what no man ever had—the source. “The spring…”
She smiled. “It has its magic.”
He lifted a brow lazily. “I’m a scientist, remember?”
“You don’t believe in things that can’t be explained?”
“Not usually.”
“Maybe it’s time you start.”
“Maybe so,” he murmured, stretching to push aside a fallen lock of hair and touch her cheek
. “No one was around when we came in,” he commented, glad they hadn’t seen anyone. He wanted her all to himself. Besides, the swim had left him feeling oddly raw, too open emotionally, and he wasn’t used to it, no more than he knew how to communicate the rare feelings.
She said, “They go to bed early.”
“The guests?”
“And my folks. They get up and start cooking at the crack of dawn. Though I didn’t see Mom’s car in the lot, come to think of it.” She paused, then, as an afterthought, added, “And that’s strange. Usually, Mom doesn’t go out at night.”
“A homebody?”
“All we witches are.”
He laughed once more. “I’d be more scared if you’d really been able to show me the graves in the woods where you keep all your ex-boyfriends.”
“Husbands, too,” she reminded.
As her bare shoulders lifted, shaking with merriment, her skin hit the light, just so—and he was struck once more by her quiet beauty. Reaching, he cupped a shoulder, slowly rubbing a thumb along the collarbone again, then into a hollow, somehow amazed at the feel of the skin. He’d completely lost track of what she was saying.
“…When I visit, I do as much work as they’ll let me do—cooking, cleaning and entertaining guests,” she continued. “But they like for me to relax and enjoy myself.”
He pulled his gaze from her; he’d been staring as if mesmerized. He forced himself to refocus his eyes on hers—the neat tufts of blond eyebrows and spiked light brown lashes. “They want you to act like you’re a guest?”
She nodded.
“Nice of them.”
“It is.”
“Do you think they’ll…”
“Think we’re together?”
They’d been pretty obvious about their attraction at the bonfire. “Would that be a problem?”
“Honestly?” she asked with an impish smile that brightened her eyes and dazzled him. “I don’t really know. But I guess not. They seemed to like you.” She shrugged, still smiling. “I locked my door.”